The Epitaphist
by angels.on.strike
Summary: After all these years, I remember him. I remember his laugh. I remember his scent. I remember his eyes. The memories burn in my mind as if it was just yesterday. It has been a long long time and he's gone. Sirius? This is for you.
1. Chapter 1

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Well.

I could waste ten minutes of my life typing up about my childhood and where I as born and all that crap and you could waste five minutes of your life reading about my childhood and where I was born and all that crap. But I won't and you … can't. Because this account or story or whatever it is you want to call it isn't about me. I am simply the recorder of what happened, not the star. Call me the story-teller if you will. Someone has to tell the story.

Where's the story without the story-teller?

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Sixth year.

Great for some, not so great for others.

Not very different for me.

Got to school alright.

I won't be telling you about the train journey and all that because it bores me to tell the truth.

Yes, the entrance to the platform is amazing. Yes, it's a nice train. Yes, cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs are great. But the prolonged interest everyone has in the goddamn train journey scares me.

Nothing happened on the train journey with any relevance to me or the account. Well nothing ever happens on the train. To me at least.

The sorting ceremony went well. Food was great as ever. Prefects took us up to dormitory. The new password was 'Diablo'. Interesting.

As always I went straight up to my dormitory, showered, brushed my teeth and got into my bed. As always I lay awake as an hour later a few girls came in laughing amongst themselves softly and one by one went to bed. As always I was woken up as a few more girls crashed into the dormitory a couple of hours later brazenly howling in drunken hysterics. As always I curled angrily into a tight ball in my bed wanting to scream at them to shut up all the while knowing I never would. And as always I lay awake with tears slowly forming and falling, the inevitable cycle, until sleep fuddled my wits.

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Time went on, as it always does, never disturbed by anyone's troubles. Going on and on forever and ever.

Halloween came.

The joyous, celebratory spirit raced through the castle like a forest fire. Everywhere you looked there were floating pumpkins, theatrically spooky silhouettes and all kinds of magical decorations. People of all houses were planning parties. Many secretive trips were being made to the kitchens. Rumours of spectacular entertainment for the Halloween party were spreading.

But most importantly Halloween marked the beginning.

The beginning of it all.

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The Halloween party took place on Friday the twenty-ninth.

Nothing happened then.

It was later on.

On Halloween itself.

The castle was strangely empty on the thirty-first of October. People were either at Hogsmeade or at home. I didn't go to Hogsmeade that night. I don't to Hogsmeade much.

I wandered around the castle, my confidence growing in the complete solitude. After hours of aimless wandering I found myself near the lake. I had somehow wandered to the most westerly bank of the lake, the one furthest away from Hogwarts. As I stared into the murky depths of the Great Lake, a great unexplainable sorrow washed over me. I kneeled at the bank and sat there as the Sun began to sink and the students began to return. Something inside me urged me to join them as they entered Hogwarts. It would be simple, I could blend in with them and no one would say anything. But no. Something else inside me urged me to stay. And I stayed.

Looking back, I've thought a lot about that decision to stay. If I had known what would happen would I have gone? No. What happened there changed my life, it gave me something and I could never put into words what that was.

I sat there waiting.

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**A/N: Hello people, oh my god … DEATHLY HALLOWS … [weeps uncontrollably. I was feeling SO down that I decided to write this and post. I have a story planned out and all but I don't think I'll bother unless people will actually read it and enjoy. So give me some gratitude. I know this is very very small but I shall update soon [if anyone reads it. This is a Sirius Black fanfic in case you're confused which you probably are. He'll come into the story pretty soon. **

**Toodloo**

**x**


	2. Chapter 2

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I waited patiently. Very patiently.

God, I don't know how long I sat there for.

Soon, day became night. The moon shone instead of the Sun.

Yet still I waited.

Slowly but surely a soft mist began to rise from the lake. I could see very vaguely.

Yet still I waited.

Soon I felt the icy chill of the night on me. My thin robes were nothing against the cold.

Yet _still_ I waited.

And finally, through the mist I saw a figure walking around the lake. The figure wandered around unaware of my presence.

I turned away from the figure and looked into the lake again. Moonlight danced upon its surface. In the lake I saw myself. Despite the mist I saw myself as clearly as I most probably ever will. In the lake I almost looked beautiful.

My nose curved delicately at the tip. My light eyes shone with a phenomenal brightness. My dark hair softly reflected the moonlight. My cheekbones protruded ever so gracefully. Then, there, I smiled.

The figure seemed to have noticed me for soon enough I heard a male voice calling to me.

"Hello?" called the voice inquisitively.

I kept my back to him and continued to look at myself.

He came closer. "Excuse me?" he said loudly.

He came even closer. Close enough to touch me. But he didn't. "Who are you?" he said. The tone was slightly wary now.

Slowly. Very slowly. He reached out to touch my shoulder and as he did I saw his reflection in the lake.

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I spun around and stood up simultaneously. I looked straight at him.

Brown met grey.

I have no idea as to whether he was half as scared as I was by the intensity of that look. I never asked him. But then I held his gaze unwaveringly. And he held mine.

In that look we shared, so much happened.

More than mere formalities. More than just superficial realisations. More than false conceptions. I felt something deep within me change as I looked into those eyes. This was who I had waited for.

I saw his pain. I saw his misery. And I saw his pride.

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"Sorry," he mumbled stepping back and looking away from me. "Are you ok? You must be cold." He made no move to give up his jacket for me.

"I don't suppose you came out here looking for me," I said quietly.

He looked up at me. "No."

I nodded slowly. I wanted to ask him things, right then. Why was he out here? Why was he so sad? But I knew this wasn't the time.

I walked away from the bank and began moving towards the castle. I walked about ten yards on my own and then looked back to see him still standing near the lake all alone.

"It's time to go back now," I called to him. The wind whipped through my hair and my voice echoed around me. Through the mist I saw him coming back.

I turned and walked back to the castle.

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The next morning I woke up early.

Sunlight streamed into the dormitories as I picked up the robes from last night. They lay crumpled on the floor. They were still damp from last night's mist and right were he had touched my shoulder I fancied I could see the imprint of his fingers.

Sitting here now, writing this, I go and find the robe. I never wore it once after that. I kept it safe and sound. Even now, I can see the imprint of his fingers as clearly as I could then.

In the dormitory, I tucked the robe away carefully before journeying downstairs to the Great Hall. I sat down at the very end of the table and ate my breakfast quickly. Lessons would start in an hour's time. There was hardly anyone in the Hall. I went back up to the common room and settled into one of the armchairs with a book. For a whole hour I stared at page fifteen not reading a single word.

I had never taken any notice of him before. Why couldn't I stop thinking of him now? I don't know what it really. Maybe it was the pain in his eyes. Maybe it was all that grief, locked up in those pupils. Maybe it wasn't. Even through all that shone his pride. Even when he knew I knew the haughtiness endured.

The bell went off, startling me. I dropped my book in surprise. I quickly picked it up and ran up to the dormitories to get my bag. And off I went to Divination.

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"Clear you minds and let the inner eye see what it will," called out Professor Teheran in his deep soothing voice.

I stared into my crystal ball allowing all my thoughts to wash away. I began to feel myself slipping away, almost always from consciousness. Images flashed in my head.

_A woman distraughtly muttering something to herself. A young boy angrily ripping a Slytherin banner. A big, black dog standing flanked by a stag standing near a lake. A man's face; his eyes wide with shock yet laughter was dying on his lips._

Someone was shaking me hard. Voices shouted out my name. I opened my eyes. A face loomed before mine. "Are you ok?" asked someone. I had somehow fallen off my chair. Someone else pulled me back up into my chair.

I smoothed back my hair and wiped sweat off my face whilst assuring everyone around me that I was fine. Once out of the lesson I asked a girl called Kate what had happened. She looked at me oddly and muttered, "I don't know. You were slumped over the ball and we thought you fell asleep or something and then when Professor asked you a question and you didn't reply we figured something was wrong." She hurried away from me as soon as she said all of that.

What the hell was that? I can't even remember anything. Well I vaguely remember these images but it's like waking up and trying to remember a dream but the harder you try the vaguer it gets. It was probably nothing. I'm just a bit tired that's all.

I had Potions next. Right now, the last thing I needed was Professor Slughorn telling me how my potions are too weak and flaccid and lifeless. I wasn't planning on missing the lesson or anything but I just needed some time to myself. You know. To sort things out. Only five minutes or so.

Right then, Mrs Norris pops out of nowhere and starts giving me the third degree. I didn't need a crystal ball to tell me what was going to happen next. As I hear Filch wheezing around the corner I hurled myself into the nearest classroom.

"What have we here my sweet?" I heard Filch croon to that abominable cat- no, creature- no, thing- object – manifestation of life. God, I swear it just cackled.

The door swung open and there stood Filch holding that damned thing. It yowled in what I can only guess was a pleasant manner. "Not going to lessons are we?" leered Filch.

"Well, actually- um- in fact, I was- um- just-" I fumbled trying to invent a plausible excuse.

"DETENTION!" he yelled triumphantly before frog-marching me down to his office.

Great.

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Potions had finished about an hour ago and I didn't have anymore lessons for the day. My Draught of Living Death had been fine like everything else. Fine. Everything I ever did was just fine. Just about good enough. But always lacking that little spark, that touch, that special thing. I was alright at all my subjects. I didn't have any particular favourites. I wasn't really really good at anything. I mean, everyone has something that they're really good at. I didn't have a clue about what I wanted to do or what I wanted to be.

It drives me crazy you know, all this not knowing. I believe in fate, destiny or whatever you call it. I know that whatever's meant to be will happen but still. Sometimes I just want to get away from everything and go live in a mountain somewhere as some kind of hermit.

But I guess you can't just do things like that.

Would be nice though.

I had come straight here after Potions. I usually came here to do homework and most stuff. I had found this little place back in third year. It was a rather spacious niche behind a portrait on the fifth floor. I tried to turn the goddam beetle into a needle. After a few fruitless attempts it finally turned into a dull battered looking needle.

That did it. Especially after listening to Professor Slughorn telling me how I had to have a passion for what I did and loads of other crap, that transfiguration did my head in. I don't get it. I really don't. What was I doing wrong? Why was everything I did average? What was I a total whiz at?

Didn't even have to rack my brains for that one.

I couldn't even tell anyone stuff. And it's not because I'm anti-social or anything. People just didn't understand me. I tried you know. Everyone was really different and I would rather be a loner than pretend to be someone I wasn't just to have friends.

To the rest of the year I was just that nerdy, quiet kid.

Nerdy because I always do all my homework on time and call professors as professors even when they aren't around, instead of only employing use of the surname which I perceive as deeply disrespectful. It's just rude to go around calling someone by their surname. Even if I don't know someone personally I always call them by their first name. To me that's elementary manners.

Quiet because I have no one to talk to and chose not to converse with myself for the very blatant reason that I would then be classed as cranky, which wouldn't show a better aptitude for judgement or be much of an improvement on the initial diagnosis.

To put it simply.

No one knew me.

I didn't expect anyone to know me.

So that was that.

Also, I had no _passion _for any of my subjects and all credit for this so very apt conclusion goes to Professor Slughorn.

Oh no.

Damn cynicism.

I think it's bad for my health.

Mental health.

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**A/N: Thanks for reviewing people who did. It took me a while I'm sorry. My brother kina hogged the computer.**

**dirty look to him**

**Liked it?**

**grin to you**

** 3**


	3. Chapter 3

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I saw him around the castle a lot.

I think it was more that I started noticing him. Something had changed within me. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't attracted to him in any way. That's just silly. But I did feel something. An indescribable emotion. It wasn't pity. I never pitied him.

I can admit that hearing all the girls fuss over him made me seethe. Not from jealousy, but more because that's all he was to them. A hot guy with brains. I was the only person that really _saw_ his inner turmoil.

I never had the chance to talk to him and I knew deep down that even if I did have the oppurtunity I would never take it. He was always with his friends. Four boys. I'd never taken much notice of it before but now I did. Him and another dark-haired boy were so close they could've been brothers, but the differences between the two physically seemed to say otherwise. There was a light brown haired boy who was a little less carefree than the other two. Finally, there was a small, watery-eyed boy who was more of a tag-along.

I had always been in my own world, walking around the castle with my head in the clouds, never noticing the things that went on around me. He changed me. I started to think about him. I started to bother brushing my hair in the morning. I started to accidentally-on-purpose walk from lesson to lesson via the corridors I knew he would walk along. I started looking forward to those lessons I would have with him. I started sitting in the common room more often. I never looked at him directly and he never looked at me but sometimes I would feel flitting over me curiously.

He brought me back down to earth.

With a not unpleasant bump.

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I had detention that Friday.

I turned up at Filch's office hoping the detention wouldn't take long because I wanted to get back to this fascinating book I was reading.

"Detention is it," said Filch delightfully.

I nodded, waiting for him to take me to scrub the toilets or whatever it was.

A minute later a heard voices coming down the corridor. It hadn't occurred to me that other people might have detention too. Not that it made a difference to me. Filch leapt out of his chair as he heard the voices and ran out into the corridor.

"Stop making so much noise! I'll give you detention!" screeched Filch as two figures began walking down the corridor.

"Sorry about that Argus old chap, we're a bit tight for time this year. Already booked up, you see. Maybe some other time eh?" called out a male voice which I had heard somewhere before. The two people walking up the corridor laughed.

As they drew closer, I had a pleasant jolt, as I realised a pair of familiar pale grey eyes were staring right at me in apparent shock. As him and his messy-haired friend stepped into the direct light, he lowered his eyes and turned away from me as they came to a stand-still before Filch.

Veins bulged in Filch's forehead as he glared at the two boys. He turned on his heel and then led us wordlessly down to the dungeons. "You and you," he said pointing to me and one of the boys behind me, "will be cleaning out the store cupboard I here. The first years seem to have had an accident of some sort," he said cruelly opening the door to reveal an incredibly mess. "Without wands," he added, reaching out to take out wands.

I was still unaware of who I would be doing my detention with. I wanted it to be him and at the same time wanted it to not be him. I didn't turn around as I heard Filch march off with one of the boys following him. The person behind me cleared his throat meaningfully. It's now or never, I thought as I turned quickly and thrust my hand at whomever it was, opening my mouth to introduce myself. But as I met those inquisitive grey eyes I couldn't say the words and ended up opening and closing my eyes in a very goldfish-like manner. He raised an eyebrow at my strange antics. I turned away from him biting my lip quickly ditching my initial plan.

We both surveyed the mess in silence.

"Maybe we should-"

"Shall I start over-"

We both said at the same time turning to face each other.

"Go ahead-"

"You go first-"

We both said again at the same time.

This was ridiculously embarrassing.

"I'll start from this side," he said hastily before I could open my mouth.

"Good idea," I replied.

He glanced at me and looked like he wanted to say something but then decided not to.

We worked painstakingly through the festering frogs' legs, rotting beetles eyes and various other ingredients without another word for a couple of hours.

I was carrying a cup full of some vile green concoction past him as he was sweeping up something which I thought was bat's nails, when I heard a faint voice. It was such a shock that I dropped the cup which shattered and its contents landed right on him.

"Oh," I said in shock as his robes began to smoke.

"Shut up James," he yelped as he tore off his robes.

"Sorry, I'll sort that out for you ... hang on," I said quickly fumbling for my wand, only to remember that Filch had taken it. Oh dear. "Hold on, I'll go and get someone" I said hurriedly rushing towards the door.

"No," he said pulling off his t-shirt, which had huge holes in it. "Water," he said.

I grabbed a cup and filled it up from the taps at the side of the dungeons. As I rushed back he was running his hands through his hair. Unsure of what to do I dumped the water onto him, which wasn't such a great idea after all. He leapt up shivering, totally drenched in icy cold water.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I did to you but I am sorry and I would greatly appreciate it if you could kindly refrain from tossing various liquids upon me," he said in a low voice, his face very close to mine.

I looked back speechlessly. "Well, you're not dissolving anymore," I said dumbly.

He stared at me nonplussed for what felt like ages and then burst into laughter. He set me off and we were both laughing hysterically. Finally when we wheezed to a stop, wiping our eyes, he smiled at me.

And I smiled back.

"I'm Sylva," I said, "Sylva Hollow."

"Sylva Hollow," he repeated softly, not taking his eyes off mine.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He looked at me confusedly before laughing. "Funny," he said with a small smile.

I frowned. Funny? What was funny?

"Are you serious?" he said, noticing my frown.

I nodded slowly, unsure of what I had missed.

He stared at me for a moment, with an odd look on his face.

"Sirius," he said slowly, "Sirius Black."

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**A/N: Snuffles**

**Don't we just love him.**

**I use my mind-controlling powers to make you review.**

**Sorry for the exploitation.**

**Krispy Kreme?**

**xXx**


	4. Chapter 4

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"Sirius Black," I echoed. "So now you know my name isn't James," I said, after a short silence, with a smile.

"Sorry?" he said confusedly, "I never called you James."

"Oh yes you did," I replied with a light laugh.

"Oh no I didn't," he said with a similar laugh.

I raised my eyebrows slightly. I misinterpreted the relaxed smile on his face to be one of mischief and laughed again, "You called me James."

But the fake look of surprise on his face could've won him an Oscar. "You just told me that you're name was Sylva. I never called you James," he reinstated slowly as if I had understanding problems.

All traces of laughter had vanished from my face now. I repeated myself in a low voice, "You called me James."

His eyes narrowed. "I did not call you James," he said in an equally low voice. A hint of superiority crept into his voice.

"I heard you call me James," I said loudly.

"Are you suggesting I cannot remember what I said?" he asked, arching his eyebrows in a somewhat threatening manner.

I clenched my jaw and replied in an equally threatening manner, "Are you suggesting I cannot remember what I heard?"

We glared at each other, daring the other person to say something … anything.

"Sirius! What the hell is going on?!" said a faint voice.

My eyes widened as I looked around, feeling terribly vulnerable without my wand. Sirius, on the other hand, looked around distractedly before delving into a pile of frogs' legs and pulling out a mirror.

"Shut up Prongs, you nutter," he said weakly, running his hand through his hair.

I never had him down as vain. Unsure of what to do, I began rambling blindly, "Sorry if I'm intruding on your 'mirror time', once your done making sure you look ok maybe you could give me a shout and we could carry on cleaning this place up and by the way my name isn't Prongs either, if you've already forgotten, though Prongs seems to be an improvement on James, at least you've realised I'm not male and …" But the look on his face shut me up straight away. I had no idea what rubbish I had spouted but it clearly wasn't to his taste and I was sorely regretting it.

His face was stony as he grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him.

Oh dear. What had I done? If only I hadn't opened my stupid mouth. Was he going to lock me in the cupboard or something? Oh god. I knew I should've learnt self defence. Now I was going to be locked in a cupboard, live off beetle eyes and probably never see the light of day again. Maybe I could knee him in the balls before he does anything. Ok, I'll knee him in the balls. That should do the job. I could then turn the tables and lock him in the cupboard.

He turned away from me for a moment to murmur something into the mirror. I brought my knee up hard between his legs. It evidently had the desired effect, as he doubled over, his face contorted in pain.

As he rolled around uttering a very inventive mixture of swear words, I slipped out of the cupboard and locked him in there. However, my conscience wouldn't let me leave him there, so I stood by the door waiting for him to recover.

Eventually I heard him pound on the door and shout, "Hey! Let me out!" He continued to shout various things, which weren't particularly pleasant. After a while, I cleared my throat loudly. He immediately fell silent. A few seconds later he said softly, "Sylva?"

"Oh! Finally! Not James or Prongs is it?" I said bitingly.

"Look, I can explain all of it, it's not what you think, I wasn't calling _you_ James-" he started placidly.

"Don't start that again!" I said shrilly.

"Just open the door Sylva and I can show you what-" he began again, now sounding a little more strained.

"I don't need to be shown anything and I don't plan to open the door because I know-" I interrupted.

"OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!" he yelled, throwing himself hard against the thick wooden door.

"Yeah right and have you knock me out or whatever-" I started again.

"I am not going to knock you out. Can you please just open the door?!" he said wearily.

"Fine," I said shortly, unlocking the door.

He emerged from the cupboard and glowered at me before handing me the mirror. "Here," he said abruptly.

I looked curiously at the mirror before turning back to him. "Is this some kind of joke? Because I don't find any of it remotely –"

"Hello?" said a voice from the mirror.

I stopped mid-rant and looked at the mirror. The messy-haired boy grinned back at me.

"What?!" I said, touching my face. "What's that thing done with my reflection?" I said in panic.

"That thing is James," said Sirius weakly. "Also know as Prongs," he added, throwing me a hint of a dirty look.

Realisation dawned on me. This must've been the faint voice that had made drop the cup of green stuff, and then Sirius must've been talking to the boy. It all made sense, now. And I had thought Sirius was going to attack me when he was only going to show me the mirror and I had gone and … oh dear.

I turned towards Sirius, wincing. "I'm sorry, I thought that … well I just took everything wrong and I didn't mean to … I mean, it seemed like – oh I'm sorry," I ended lamely.

He raised an eyebrow sardonically and muttered, "Say that when my shoulder stops hurting and I haven't got any of this rancid slime in my hair." He then took the mirror back from me.

There was an awkward silence.

"Your t-shirt and robes have stopped smoking," I said absurdly, pointing to the crumpled clothing which lay abandoned.

This didn't seem to improve his spirits.

"Golly, I'd never have noticed," he remarked acidly, picking up the t-shirt and robes and examining the large holes.

I'd had enough of his silly behaviour by now. It was past bordering on overkill.

"Alright, I said I was sorry but this wouldn't have happened if you and your Prangs-"

"Prongs,"

"-hadn't been talking through that mirror-"

"Us talking through a mirror doesn't give you right to dump some vile green-"

"Well, if you heard voices coming from somewhere I bet you would drop what you were holding, which is exactly what happened to me and it's your misfortune to have been right -"

"That is still no excuse to lock me in a smelly old cupboard and-"

"It was self defence! You grabbed me by the wrist and looked just about ready to kill and anyone in my position would've-"

"Get real! Do you really I'd buy that? Oh sure, I looked ready to kill-"

"How should I know? I didn't even know your name until about five minutes ago and I have no idea what you are-"

"Oh yeah, sure you don't know my name. You know my name alright and you must think I'm one dumb person if I don't know what you were trying to do-"

"_What?!_"

"I know, I know exactly what you've been doing. Stalking me around the castle-"

"I did not stalk you! You insufferable bastard! You're so unbelievably arrogant and _full_ of yourself-"

"I know how you feel about me and I don't know-"

"You're wrong! I don't feel _anything _for you and I-"

"Oh you flobberworm! Just listen to me-"

"How dare you call me a flobberworm! You- you hippogriff! I will not put up with-"

A wheezing laugh interrupted me.

"Shut up James, you imbecile," roared Sirius stuffing the mirror which was in his hands into the bundle of burnt clothing.

He turned to me looking flushed and muttered, "Call me whatever you will. I'm not in the slightest perturbed by your vindictive childishness but I've had enough-"

"Childish vindictiveness?"

"Vindictive childishness, in fact,"

"You know what I think? I think you're a spiteful tosser. I actually thought you were more than all that you make out to be, but I was obviously wrong because you have just proven to me that you are nothing more than a self-obsessed pretty boy and … and I'm going to bed now, I've had enough of you,"

With that I marched off to the dormitories.

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Ok. I regretted all of that. There was no need for it. Well, he did start it. But that doesn't matter. I didn't have to act so ridiculously. Oh god.

Great.

Just what I need.

I lay in my bed going over Friday night's events. I had no idea what time it was but judging by the lack of noise it was probably quite late. No chance of breakfast then. Maybe I'd sneak down to the kitchens. Where the hell were the kitchens?

I finally got up and pulled back the hangings.

I spotted someone sitting on a bed scribbling into a book. Probably a diary, I thought to myself as I hauled myself out of bed.

The girl looked up quickly but relaxed as she saw it was me. What was her name? Dianne? I don't really know any of the girls in my dormitory. Well, I know their names but I get confused. Oh yeah, it's Dionne.

"Hi Dionne, um, do you know how to get down to the kitchens?" I asked quickly before she ran off.

No one really likes to be seen talking to me.

Haven't got a clue why.

"Go down to that fruit picture thing and tickle the pear," she said whilst locking up her diary with as many enchantments as possible and leaving the dormitory.

"Thanks," I called out pointlessly as she'd already disappeared.

I pulled on a pair of robes before trekking down to the kitchen.

I found the pear and tickled it. It giggled and then turned into a door.

I went straight in and guess who I find standing there wolfing down waffles?

Oh yes. None other than the despicable Sirius Black.

Totally ignoring him I asked a house-elf for toast, cereal, eggs and bacon.

As my breakfast arrived I began to chew and swallow methodically, completely aware of a pair of eyes boring into me.

"I'm sorry," said a voice.

I didn't look up.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

I polished off the remnants of bacon before pushing away my plate, looking up and saying with a cold smile, "Did you say something?"

"Yes. I said I'm sorry," he replied, his eyes cloaked.

I gazed at him silently. The house-elves who had all stopped doing what they were doing seemed to have picked up upon the tension between us.

"Please," he said softly.

"Apology accepted," I said with a false cheeriness despite those things he had said last night echoing loudly in my ears. "But you're still a hippogriff."

I knew deep down he hadn't meant what he'd said the night before. I had said some hateful things myself. So … it was best to forget all of it. Plus, he was the only person who had talked to me for more than a minute and he had been nice before we … got into our disagreement.

He looked relieved as he smiled tentatively and joked, "Fine by me, flobberworm."

But we both knew there was something forced about our attitudes.

I guess it was inevitable.

Clash of wills?

Well, he _was_ Sirius Black after all.

But it still hurt.

Even now.

It still hurts.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Isn't it funny sometimes, how we like to kid ourselves that things are right when they are so painfully wrong? Well, I guess funny isn't the word. Maybe ironic. More tragic actually.

I heard and saw things which really did pull the wool from my eyes. It seems I'd been in the clouds for too long and it was time for gravity to do its dirty work.

And the landing didn't come without a bump.

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Winter took Hogwarts in its frosty grip; freezing the lake, blanketing the grounds and frosting the forest. Before soon Filch was hurrying through the corridors screeching at the sight of the numerous puddles or melting snow. Lessons went on as usual with the added benefit of Professor Slughorn's daily chiding of me and my inadequacy. Everyone had fallen into the steady rhythm of school life by now.

Everyone but me, that is.

It is very strange because it's not homesickness. Hogwarts is more of a home to me but every year I never quite get used to living there. I can't really explain it. I find it not right waking up every day in that bed. I find it not right going down to breakfast in the morning with hundreds of other people. I find it not right that I have only been called by my first name once in six years of school. Is that wrong?

The winter of sixth year was the time in which I sunk into depression. It was terrible. Deep within me there was just a chilly, timeless vacuum. I didn't cry once for those winter months, December, January and February which is saying something. But I was depressed. It was something that went past tears. I was stuck in a limbo where there was nothing. I felt so sad for no reason whatsoever and I simply had no motivation to do anything. My professors obviously noticed a change in me. I guess there was a very distinctive decline in my studies. After many pepper-up potions and no change, I was sent to see the headmaster to discuss things.

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"Good evening Miss Hollow," said Professor Dumbledore.

Oh gosh, this was weird. I'd never seen the headmaster properly before. He truly was magnificent with his half-moon glasses and his crooked nose.

"Good evening sir," I replied.

He gestured for me to sit opposite him. I perched myself on the chair.

"I hear you have not been yourself recently Miss Hollow," he said surveying me closely over his glasses.

I remained silent. There wasn't anything I could really say.

"Is there anything you would like to tell me?" he said after a short silence, his bright blue eyes staring into mine.

"I would like to go home sir."

"The holidays begin in two weeks Miss Hollow. Are you homesick?" he said in mild curiosity, which I took to mean that he was quite surprised at my suggestion.

"No sir."

We sat in silence for quite a while.

His bright blue eyes x-rayed my dull brown ones. Finally he said, "Very well. You may go home two weeks early Miss Hollow."

"Thank you sir," I said gratefully. I stood up and left the room without another word. He'd already learnt enough about me.

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I got off the Knight Bus and started walking down the street, towing my trunk behind me. It was roughly midday and no one would be home now. I decided to go to the little park at the end of the street. Leaving my trunk near the climbing frame, I sat on one of the swings.

Twining my arm around the metal chain and swinging slowly, I very randomly began to sing. "Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are, up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are."

A sound nearby broke me out of my daze. Someone sat on the swing next to me.

"Pretty voice," said a male voice.

I nodded my thanks without looking at the boy.

"The weather's terrible," he continued conversationally.

I wasn't in the mood to be talking to strangers. Even if they were nice strangers. So I remained silent.

"But don't you love it," he said ignoring my silence. "As much as we complain about the rain and the clouds and all that, things wouldn't be right without it all."

I didn't say anything but something in the boy's voice made me glance at him. He stared straight ahead. There was a comfortable silence.

"Isn't it funny sometimes, how we like to kid ourselves that things are right when they are so painfully wrong?" he said slowly. "Well, I guess funny isn't the word. Maybe ironic. More tragic actually," he added, as an afterthought.

I froze. What did he just say?

He turned to me for the first time since sitting there and smiled slightly. "It's ok. I know exactly how you feel," he said quietly.

"Sorry?" I said sounding very shocked.

He smiled again and turned away from me. "You have to understand that sometimes there's nothing you can do. Try and see what really matters," he said mysteriously.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said getting off the swing and walking towards my trunk. With my back to him I muttered, "I need to go home now."

I turned back to the boy whilst asking, "Who are you anyway?" only to find that he had gone.

That was possibly the oddest thing that has ever happened to me.

And what was even odder was that I wasn't in the slightest perturbed.

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I really truly don't know why I wanted to come home. I was depressed. I knew I was depressed. And there was nothing I could do about it. When you're depressed, you're depressed and you've got to wait for it to pass or do the final deed, which is quite bluntly suicide. But I could never do it. It's a very dramatic thing. And I'm not a very dramatic person. No. I'm a plain person. One of those people you see on the bus and you forget about as soon as you step off the bus. I'm rather like a ghost. People just do not see me. I look quite ghostly I guess. I have very pale skin, would've been an advantage in Elizabethan times, not so much now though. As I said before I am a plain person. I don't mind being a plain person. I really don't.

Oh dammit I hate being plain.

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"Sylva?" called a familiar voice. I woke up from my slumber to see my sister grinning at me toothily. "When did you get back? Aren't you early?" she asked excitedly.

I yawned and stretched. When did I fall asleep? My sister watched me avidly still waiting for me to answer her question.

"Erm. I got back around midday. No, I was feeling a bit ill so I got to come home early," I said eventually.

"You're ill?" she said curiously before examining me carefully. "You look fine to me," she replied before running off.

I leant back into the sofa and accidentally turned the television on. As I dug around for the remote I accidentally increased the sound too. With Countdown blaring loudly, I stood up and finally found the remote.

"Sylva! What are you doing?! Put the sound down immediately," shouted my mother appearing at the doorway.

Quickly turning down the sound I replied, "It turned on accidentally."

My mother cast me a look before heading back to the kitchen.

Oh great. She's already annoyed at me. Well, did I really think she wouldn't be?

"Sylva!" called my sister. "It's tea time."

"Coming," I shouted back, watching Carol Volderman taking out consonants and vowels on the muted television, before switching it off and shuffling into the dining room.

"Sylva? I want to have a word with you," said my dad to me as I started up the stairs.

I peered at him through the doorway uncertainly. "Sure," I said going back into the living room.

"I received a letter from your school," he said, raising his eyebrows and putting down the newspaper.

"Oh," I said shortly not meeting his eyes. What did they say?

"Is this true Sylva?" he asked me sternly.

"I don't know what you're talking about dad," I replied quietly. I wasn't how they would react to me being depressed. They'd probably refuse to believe it.

He sighed before taking off his reading glasses and putting them on the coffee table. "Your teachers have said there's been a sudden decline in your studies."

I gave an inward sigh of relief. "Yes dad. I'm sorry about that," I said lightly. "It was just a phase. Well if that's all, I'll be off to bed dad," I said quickly, getting up.

"Sylva," said my dad softly, watching me closely. "You're not- you aren't pregnant are you?"

I froze half-way to the door. Oh god. Is this what he'd been thinking? I knew something had been bothering him. "No dad," I said calmly looking him straight in the eye.

He frowned slightly before asking, "Is everything alright?"

I paused before replying. "Everything's fine."

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"Hey Sylva! Look! It's snowing!" cried my sister bouncing around the room, squealing like a nutter. "Come on! Hurry up, I want to go outside!" she said hopping before me.

"It's too cold and I don't feel like it," I said unenthusiastically.

"Sylva, please!" begged my sister.

"Riva I don't want to go outside. I have other things to do," I said impatiently brushing her aside.

"But mum and dad won't get back until five!" whined my sister.

"Well, you can wait then," I replied leaving the room.

I'm not a mean person. Don't get the wrong idea. I always take my sister out when she wants to go and play. Riva's too young to go out on her own and if I don't take her out she's not allowed. But I refuse to take her out to play when it snows.

I love snow. It's so beautiful, pure, untainted and so lovely.

And it really kills me to see people stepping in it, scooping it up and making it dirty.

Because snow is a blanket that makes everything beautiful.

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Ugh. I hate Christmas shopping. It's so tiresome; going in and out of shops, lugging around bags, struggling to walk down the street because it's so packed and worrying about what to get or whether I've got everyone presents. I hate the Christmas trees, I hate the decorations, I hate turkey, I hate Christmas pudding and I hate lying to Riva about Santa. I even hate getting presents because I never get what I want and I have to pretend that I like what I get even when I hate it.

I am not in a foul mood.

I genuinely hate Christmas.

And so would you after quite literally being trampled while trying to buy presents at Oxford Street. As it happens I couldn't even find the dress Riva had ever-so subtly hinted to me about. Or the vase I had seen in the summer for mother. But I did manage to get a brilliant tie set for dad. He'll love it. Well he'll pretend to love it at least.

We always have a huge party for Christmas. A whole load of people get invited. Most of them turn up because my mother really is a fabulous cook. I usually end up in one of those madly irritating one-sided conversations with some ancient relative of mine which usually revolves around how ungrateful today's youth is. I don't know why I even bother. I don't bother infact.

I wrapped up dad's present in bright gold wrapping paper and finished it by tying ribbon around it. I do have to admit I'm great at wrapping presents. I never put too much tape on or use too much wrapping paper. Just the right amount.

I felt rather bad about not being able to get Riva that dress she wanted, so I'd gotten her a glass ball with a snowman in it and when you shake it snow starts falling. It was mesmerising to watch and she'd probably sit around for hours watching the snow fall.

For mother I'd found a different vase. She wouldn't like it. She wouldn't whatever I got her so that doesn't really matter.

For people that come to the Christmas party and ask where their present is I got a huge stack of 'quirky' key rings.

I think of everything. I really do.

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Days after parties are most probably the worst days ever. There's a lot of cleaning to do and usually a lot of short tempers.

"SYLVA! Where did you put the candle?" shouted my mother up the stairs.

"I put it on the mantelpiece," I yelled back, before switching on the vacuum and hovering up the debris of yesterday.

Finishing off the hovering I went downstairs. The house had finally returned to its normal state. As I was about to sit down I heard an odd sound. Looking around for the source of the sound I finally saw an owl at the window. Curiously I walked over to the window. Who would be writing to me? I opened the window and the owl hopped in and ruffled its feathers imperiously. Realising immediately that it was newspaper I paid the owl and unrolled the paper.

Whilst scanning the paper I headed upstairs to my room. By the time I had gotten to my room I had flicked through the paper and found nothing interesting. I sat down on my bed facing my piano. Getting up slowly I walked towards it. I sat down in front of it. I ran my fingers along the keys lightly, not really playing the notes. White, black, white, black, white, white, black, white, black, white, black, white. All the dust from the keys gathered on my finger.

It had been so long.

Too long.

I put down the lid and sighed. I started to get up when a voice stopped me.

"No. Sit down," said my mother's voice.

I turned around. My mother was standing at the doorway holding a pile of freshly laundered clothes in her hand. She came in and put them down on my bed. I was lost for words.

"Sit down," she repeated.

Slowly I sat back down on the seat. She left the room and came back seconds later clutching a large dusty box. She opened it and took out sheets of paper.

"Mother, you don't have-" I started awkwardly as she flicked through the bunch.

"No," she said cutting me off.

Finally she stopped leafing through the bunch and put the Piano Concerto No. 1 by Tchaikovsky. She then stepped back and stood behind me. I reached forward and turned the first page. As my eyes travelled over the notes, it all began to come back to me. In my mind the tune formed.

I put my fingers on the keys but didn't play.

"Play, Sylva, play," whispered my mother from behind me.

And I did.

I closed my eyes and began to play. I played from the heart. I was lost in the music. My mind sang and my fingers played. I was not myself anymore. No. I was not who I'd been lately anymore. I felt alive. I could feel emotions fill up the empty void that I've been carrying inside me lately. But these were feelings of joy that I poured into the keys as I played. I didn't stop. I didn't _want _to stop. I paused only to flip the page until the final chord. It must have been seconds or minutes before I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again, practically feeling the shine in them.

And then the moment was gone.

When the resonance of the last note had died away, I noticed that my hands were still on the keys and abruptly pulled them away from the piano.

"Sylva," said my mother's voice softly, full of pain.

If I had to pin-point the exact moment my depression broke, it would have to be that.

She threw her arms around me sobbing loudly. "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I can't believe I made you stop. I've been such a fool. Such a selfish, selfish fool," she cried whilst rocking me in her arms. I began to cry too.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," she repeated hugging me tighter, still crying.

I don't how long we sat like that, in front of the piano, just crying.

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**Gosh. It's been quite a while. The chapter is relatively long. For me at least.**

**Get to know Sylva folks. Drop me a review because I thought it was a very good chapter.**

**:D **

**And would like to thank my wonderful editor a lot. Thanks Fizz. She made the whole piano bit rather brilliant. **

**xXx**

**Suba**


	6. Chapter 6

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Then I went back to school.

Thing went on as normal; lessons, homework, food and all that. And there was Sirius Black. Something about him had changed. To be blunt he was quite a selfish, inconsiderate, way-too-loud person. At least from what I knew, which to be fair, wasn't much.

However I can say something about him changed.

I guess we all have our own problems.

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"Hey! Hey you!" shouted someone.

I clutched my bag closer to me and walked faster. I couldn't be bothered to put up with a couple of lousy Slytherins picking on me, right now.

"Hey! Slow down!" shouted the person.

Goddamn it. This one seemed to be pretty persistent.

I picked up my pace, practically running down the corridor.

Suddenly a whole horde of Hufflepuffs came down the corridor, mainly blocking it.

I began to push my way through them, apologising as I jabbed people in the stomach with my elbows and trod on peoples' toes. Just as I broke free of the crowd I felt a hand grab me by the arm and steer me into an empty classroom.

"Excuse me," I said in my most biting voice, shaking my arm free and turning to face my kidnapper with the meanest face I could muster.

"Sorry but you wouldn't bloody stop," said a flustered Sirius Black.

"You?" I said in a shocked voice.

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly. "I said I'm sorry alright," he said nervously.

I stared at him open-mouthed. Did Sirius Black just chase me down the corridor?!

What the hell was going on?

"Can you quit giving me the evil eye?" he said uncomfortably.

I woke from my mini-stupor. "Wasn't giving you the evil eye," I mumbled defensively. "What do you want anyways?" I said shuffling away from him.

"I just wanted to talk," he said quickly.

"You chased me down the corridor just because you wanted to talk?!" I said incredulously.

"Yeah … I had this creepily realistic dream about you … and I just felt like talking to you …" he trailed off awkwardly. He then looked right at me with those smoky eyes and I saw a compelling desperation in them. Whatever had happened, he needed me.

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This is where the story really starts. We became friends of sorts. I say of sorts because we didn't quite acknowledge the fact that we were friends but we were. In a way.

People talked. But people always talk. He was the popular, fit one and I was the weird, cranky one. Chalk and cheese, really.

"Do you reckon Lily will go out with James?" asked Sirius peculiarly, stretching out on the armchair.

I paused whilst writing my transfiguration essay and gave him a blank stare. It was a bloody Sunday morning and he was asking me ridiculous questions. "Why? Would it bother you?" I asked sardonically.

"Well … he seems pretty obsessed that's all," he replied quietly.

I sighed and turned to face him. "He's still gonna be your best mate alright."

Sirius jerked his head up and looked at me warily before inclining his head slightly and smiling faintly.

Silly boy, I thought to myself.

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During those Sirius days, as I referred to them, time passed so slowly. Every day something happened, something memorable however ridiculous it may be. I guess to you, the reader, I probably seem as if I'm infatuated with him. Writing this right now, I would think the same, but in reality I didn't have any such feelings for him. To me he was almost something to be marvelled at. Sounds weird doesn't it. His mind worked so bizarrely, it fascinated me. Every day with him was an adventure. He made me laugh, he kept me happy and he … inspired me to live freely. And, as strange as it may sound, I liked to think he came to need me and I lived off that need. It gave me life and energy. I came to believe that I fascinated him too.

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Time passed on and the Easter holidays arrived. Spring began to emerge with its buds and its birds. I guess spring is the time or life and birth and regeneration and all that but I never have liked it much. I've always preferred autumn. It's just so _so _beautiful with its crisp golden leaves and its rich rays of sunlight. I slowly began to come out of my shell, I suppose. I'd never thought of it that way but I had retreated into a hibernation of sorts and I was finally waking up. For you to understand I have to tell the whole story.

Grandpa died in the January of the year I started Hogwarts. He had been an amazing musician but was not successful because he was born into a poor family and was not able to pursue his dreams, as a result. He married Grandmother and built up a life for himself. He wanted mother to become a great pianist but she showed hardly any musical talent however when I was born he knew I had talent and taught me the piano.

Grandpa was a great teacher. I can still remember those mottled hands flying over the keys effortlessly. He was hard to please and quite tough on me but when I finished playing a piece and his eyes were still closed, it was the most gratifying experience in the world.

Then Grandmother died and Grandpa took it hard. He loved her so much. He just couldn't deal with it. He forgot about everything and poured himself into me and music. But then he died too. That January I lost the sole thing my life was built on; music. Mother couldn't bear to look at a score or hear the piano. Dad managed to stop her from getting rid of my piano but she forbid me to ever play it again. I was never very close to my mother, but a huge gulf grew between us and we didn't even try to stop it. Not one little bit.

I got my letter from Hogwarts and went. Music was forgotten. I shut myself down and unknowingly entered that long, long hibernation. And he brought me out of it.

My dear, sweet, beloved Sirius.

His name caressed me with its seductive sibilance.

He talked in D major.

He gave me music.

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**A/N: **

**Its late and short and I'm very sorry. I probably won't update soon because I have exams coming up. But remember that I love you all and I won't abandon this ff. **

** 3**


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